The Song of Patroclus and Achilles
by littleredboots12
Summary: Just a short drabble I wrote on the fly. When Phineas brings pot back to Gene and his' dorm, he insists that it will be fun, but when things get intense, the night turns in a direction neither boy was expecting. Set during the winter after Phineas' fall.


The Song of Patroclus and Achilles

In the half hidden light of the bedside lamp with a muslin scarf over it, Gene waited hotly for Phineas to return to their room. He threw little half glances at the door, interrupting him in the middle of the Illiad, not that he had been paying much attention to it while he was reading it. What could be happening with Phineas worried him more.

'Damn him,' Gene thought, scowling at the door. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table, it read 1:05, he scowled even harder. Phineas had left at the stroke of midnight, in a flourish of promises and excitement, grinning like a mad man. "You'll see Gene, I think you'll like it," he had said with a wink, then vanished into the night without further explanation.

"Dick," he said aloud, clamping the book shut and throwing it to the end of his bed; there was no way he would be able to read. Whatever Phineas had planned for tonight, no doubt he would be forced to join. He couldn't refuse him, not after the damage he'd caused, not when it meant so much to Phineas to have him by his side. Gene was sure he would do anything for Phineas, anything he asked. Phineas, the fallen hero. He reminded Gene a lot of Achilles, brave and brash and absolutely brilliant, though ultimately destined for tragedy. He supposed that made him his Patroclus; for some reason the thought made him shiver, a coil forming in his gut. Gene shifted a little, then got up, hoping to walk the strange feelings off.

Just as he had managed to get a couple paces across the room, Phineas had burst through the door and shut it quickly, as well as loudly, behind him. Gene could hardly think to ask him anything before Phineas had grabbed Gene by the arm and pressed him violently against the desk, quickly shutting off the light and turning on a torch instead. Gene made a start to protest, his lower back stinging with the pain of being knocked against the solid oak desk when Phineas clamped a hand over his mouth.

"By God, will you stop wiggling?" Phineas said in a slightly exasperated tone, though seeming rather amused all the same.

Gene rolled his eyes and glared, then finally went still. _'__For a crippled guy, he__'__s still fucking strong.__'_

When Phineas felt satisfied that Gene wouldn't cause a ruckus, he took his hands off the other boy's mouth and arm. Now that was out of the way, Phineas resumed his wild, excited state of being. Gene felt debased.

"Where the hell have you been?" Gene asked first, "Wherever it was, I hope it was worth almost getting your ass expelled."

Phineas pulled back a bit, the torch light flickering with his movements. Gene felt the chill of Phineas' absent body heat against his abdomen and felt an unexplainable feeling of loss now that it was gone. Gene quickly ignored this and focused on Phineas, who had now decided to take a seat on his bed, but was having a bit of trouble maneuvering his leg, which was still in a brace. Ignoring his own inquiry for the moment, he went beside Phineas and helped put his leg into a comfortable position.

"Thanks," Phineas said as Gene sat down across from him, then began rummaging into his rucksack- which Gene had only just noticed he had been carrying. The torch wobbled in Phineas' grip as he reached through his bag, shining the light all over the place; making it too easy for someone to notice they were up.

Gene sighed, "Give me that, you idiot," grabbing the torch from Phineas and holding it steady.

"Thanks." Phineas barely glanced up.

Gene still found it funny how easily he let Gene help him- he never let anyone else. You couldn't pick a pencil that he had dropped off the floor without him declaring he could pick up his own damn pencils. That was, unless you were Gene.

"Okay, I think I've got everything," Phineas said in a quiet, sure voice before pulling out a few thin rolling papers, a lighter, filters, and a rolled up paper bag that emitted a strong herbal smell, one that Gene was very familiar with.

Gene's eyes widened, "What the hell Phineas! Where'd you get all that from?"

Phineas smirked, "From Brinker, used a bit of that old cripple's pity to get him to smuggle some for me."

Gene quieted for a moment. Phineas never used his leg for any sort of gain; Phineas hated being pitied, in fact, he steadfastly refused to be around anyone who would pity him. Why the sudden change of heart confused Gene almost as much as his strange feelings from before had.

Still, Gene continued, "But what do you expect us to do with that?"

"Well, originally I wanted to smoke it, but now you've got me questioning things."

"Hilarious. I meant, why now all of a sudden do you want to try it out?"

It was true, Phineas had abstained from smoking marijuana, unlike most boys at Devon, who at least tried it once. Though Gene supposed this could be Phineas' once.

Phineas was quiet for several moments, his happy grin gone. Gene almost felt bad for asking so many questions in the first place. After a few moments, his soft and steady voice filled the closed-up air around them.

"You know I didn't smoke before because of sports. Now? No sports, no reason to give a damn. Brinker says it's like nothing else; it makes you happy, like you're floating on air, and all of your cares and inhibitions float away. I want to feel like that Gene, and I want to do it with you."

Phineas' eyes practically glowed in the light of the torch, silvery grey, beguiling in every way. Those eyes pleaded at Gene, seemingly beckoning Gene to join him.

"Okay." Gene hadn't meant for his voice to sound so breathy. He felt as though he'd committed himself to something bigger, as though Phineas had bewitched him into handing something over- something he'd been clutching on to for quite some time. Whatever it was, he didn't seem to mind letting go of it.

Phineas smiled, almost as though to himself, then started to remove the contents of the brown paper bag. Gene watched, almost reverently, as Phineas dosed out some of the treacly green herb, measuring and spreading it with his fingers. He then rolled the paper around it, putting a filter inside and pressing carefully on the edges.

"Hey Gene," Phineas said while checking the joint for tears, "how come you've never smoked? I mean, until now of course."

Gene bit on his lower lip, then answered, "Because you never did."

Phineas looked up from his work for a moment and looked at Gene, a smile growing on his face. He shook his head and went back to his work.

"I'll never find a better friend than you Gene, not in a million years, not ever."

Gene was glad for the darkness, his face burning bright red.

"You're very good at that," Gene observed.

"Thanks." Phineas, sure the joint was fine, licked his tongue up the side of it.

Gene's stomach twisted.

"Done," Phineas finally announced quietly, conscious of the fact that he could wake their neighboring dorm-mates, and that he didn't have enough to keep them quiet. He grabbed for the lighter and flicked it once… twice… flickering light illuminated his face. He ushered for Gene to move a bit closer, he complied. They were so close their knees were touching, but neither boy minded. Phineas brought the blunt to his lips, then cupped the flame, making sure it didn't get snuffed out from the cold winter air blowing from the window. Lighting up, Phineas took a drag, then held it in for a contemplative moment, eyes closed, and released a curling bloom of smoke from between his lips. It danced off in swirls into the air. Phineas didn't so much as sputter, like most boys he'd seen do; he was totally cool as he took another drag, eyes still closed, and released, his lips curling around the tendrils of smoke reaching out from his lungs.

Gene watched, captivated, throat a little dry. The smell of the smoke, the cold night air, and Phineas' heavy, musky cologne were making his head foggy. After a third drag, Phineas' eyes were half opened, his mouth still parted after his last breath. There was something in his eyes, something Gene couldn't quite identify. But it didn't alarm him, only made him more curious.

"Here," Phineas said suddenly, pushing the joint out in front of him, "Take a couple hits."

Gene didn't resist, taking the joint from Phineas' extended hand. He felt a bit self-conscious; Phineas was watching him intently.

He brought the joint to his lips and took in a large breath, as he'd seen others do. It burned his lungs, but he didn't release it- only waited, waited for the drug to seep into his blood, make him feel like Phineas did.

"Blow," Phineas said abruptly. Gene glanced at him, Phineas' breathing seemed shallow, he released the smoke all at once. It seemed to make Phineas a bit more at ease, but not much.

He took a few more hits, then handed it back to Phineas, who did a couple more. The air was thick with the condensation from outside and the smoke inside. Gene was in a daze, and Phineas seemed to be in a blissful state. There was only a couple more inches of the joint left. Gene didn't want it to end though, it was the first time he'd breathed easy in a while, ironically.

There was a sound, and Gene focused in on Phineas, who'd emitted a soft grunt. He meant to give Phineas a questioning look, but he was't sure if he had managed it.

"I want to try something," Phineas whispered, his eyes focused on Gene, who couldn't look away, not even if he'd wanted to.

"Okay," Gene said, uncaring of whatever it could be.

"Come closer, we have to be face to face," Phineas instructed, inching as close as he could with his bad leg. Gene moved the rest of the way, meeting him in the middle.

"Bring your face closer," Phineas reiterated, his fingers twitched anxiously. Gene did as he was told, and soon they were as close as you could get without smashing into each-other. Gene could feel Phineas' breath on his lips, he shivered at how warm his breath was.

"Okay, I heard about this from Brinker- he said it's something you do with someone you want to get close with. And I want go get close to you Gene, as close as it gets."

Gene's breathing grew harder, he stared at Phineas, unable to respond. Phineas searched his face- for what? Rejection? Repulsion? He surely wouldn't find any of that.

Phineas took a breath and nodded, then clasped his hand to Gene's chin, his fingers just barely on his lips. Gene sucked in a breath, and waited for an explanation.

"Open your mouth, and when you do, I'm going to blow the smoke into your mouth," he paused, "Okay?"

Gene gave a sharp bow of his head in consent, his heart beating wildly in his chest. A spark erupted in Phineas' eyes, he nodded once, then twice, as though to himself, then brought the blunt to his lips and sucked inward. Once he'd gathered enough smoke in, he brought his mouth to Gene's; their lips brushed against each-other. A shudder rippled through Gene's body at the contact. Without hesitation, Phineas pulled at Gene's bottom lip with his thumb and Gene's mouth parted slowly, his eyes closing, heart thudding. Gene felt the smoke seep into his mouth, he closed it and breathed in, letting the smoke seep into his lungs. Gene let out a shuddering breath and opened his eyes, seeing Phineas' icy grey ones staring into his. The look in his eye made his skin prick. The hardness in his pants that had been growing became rock hard, verging on painful.

"So?"

"I want to do it to you," Gene whispered quickly.

Phineas didn't hesitate in the slightest, practically shoving the blunt between his fingers. Gene brought the blunt to his lips, and watched as Phineas let out quick, silent little breaths.

"Close your eyes," He commanded in a hoarse voice.

Phineas did so almost instantaneously.

Gene liked that.

Taking in a sharp, full intake, Gene tossed the remainder of the blunt onto the floor and crushed it with the foot that trailed off the bed. Gene pressed into Phineas, his dick pressing into his pants and causing him to groan at the ache. Phineas made a quiet utterance, something between a grunt and a moan that made Gene's skin grow hot. Feverishly, Gene grasped the back of Phineas' neck into a tight grip and clasped his fingers onto Phineas' strong jawline, crushing his lips into his parted mouth. He blew out all the smoke from his lungs, then pushed Phineas backward as he gasped harshly. Gene groaned as Phineas clasped his hands onto his shoulder and back and kissed harder, fuller, his tongue pushing into Phineas' expecting mouth. He leaned Phineas further into the pillows, grinding his hips into his, groaning even louder as he trailed a hand down Phineas' chest and moved his hand under the tail of his shirt.

"Q-quiet," Phineas whispered hoarsely.

Gene just barely managed a nod, nipping and licking at Phineas' bottom lip. He felt a tugging at his t-shirt, and quickly Gene rose and took it off, exposing his lean chest. Phineas' eyes looked glazed as he moved a hand up the trail of hair leading from Gene's waistband to his belly-button, then down again, getting so close to where Gene wanted him to be he could have came right then.

"Help," Phineas practically begged, tugging at his shirt tail.

"Of course," Gene murmured lovingly, beginning an agonizing journey up the trail of buttons on Phineas' button-up. As the last button escaped its holding, Gene quickly ripped Phineas' shirt from off his shoulders, Phineas leaning forwards, his abs rippling against his golden skin. When he fell back into the bed, Gene nearly gasped at how gorgeous he was, perfectly sculpted, crafted like a god.

"What?" Phineas whispered, his beautiful eyes staring up at Gene's forest green ones, soft and large, the color of moss.

"You're perfect," Gene said reverently.

Phineas smirked, "Speak four yourself."

He pressed his hips into Gene's, causing Gene to nearly cry out. He couldn't take anymore teasing, Gene needed Phineas now, and Phineas was grabbing at Gene desperately. Quickly, they removed the rest of their clothes, the heat radiating between them. Gene's lips were latched on to Phineas' neck, his hand at the other boy's length. The moans and sighs slipping out of Phineas' mouth almost made Gene come.

"Gene," Phineas whispered between the strokes of Gene's hand on his cock, he licked his lips and released a breathy groan.

"Y-yeah?" Gene muttered.

"Let me touch you," Phineas practically begged. Gene, hardly realizing his lack of availability to Phineas, quickly rectified the situation. He had not braced himself for the pleasure he felt with Phineas' warm hand around Gene's dick, a welcome contrast to the cold air of their shared room.

Gene, who's head had been tucked into the crook of Phineas' neck, brought himself up to eye level. He was astounded by the intimacy of looking simply into Phineas' eyes. Those gorgeous eyes- loving eyes. He felt as though all the adoration he had for Phineas he was pouring into him, and it seemed that Phineas knew, as a smile lightened his intense gaze. He brought a hand to Gene's neck, pushing their foreheads together.

Gene was close, he could feel it in the coil in his lower abdomen, the heated, tight feeling of his dick, the pleasure he felt as Phineas' hand moved faster and faster along his length. Gene moved to match his speed, using his pre-cum to move up and down his cock faster. Phineas whispered his name into the shell of his ear, taking the lobe into his mouth to lick and nibble. Gene's mouth parted, he was on the edge, as was Phineas. He felt the pressure grow, more and more and more until- Gene shoved his face into Phineas' neck and cried out as he came, Phineas soon after, the warm, sticky fluid surging out and streaming down their stomachs and thighs.

He dropped his weight onto Phineas, laying over his body with his lower half between Phineas' legs. They stayed there for a long stretch of time, panting and trying to gain some strength back into their exhausted limbs. Their flushed, sweaty bodies cooled in the winter breeze, and eventually they became chilled. Gene rolled off Phineas and lay beside him, who scooted over as best he could for Gene. He leaned over the bed and grabbed his shirt from the floor, using it to wipe the cum off his body, then offering it to Phineas.

"Thanks," he murmured.

Gene discarded the shirt after it was done being used, then went and pulled up the quilt and sheets over him and Phineas. Nestled warm under the covers, Gene turned onto his side, allowing for Phineas to wrap his arm around him, and for Gene to lay his head next to Phineas', an arm and a leg strewn across him, a foot peeking out under the covers because of his height. Phineas laughed softly when he noticed, Gene joining in with him.

Phineas laughter faded as he calmed, a soft smile on his face as he sighed, "What do you mean to me now, I wonder?"

Gene looked at Phineas, who was staring up at the ceiling. At the sight of his contented, open expression, he was reminded of something.

"We're like Achilles and Patroclus," Gene answered, uncaring of whether or not the question was rhetorical.

"You mean from the Illiad?"

"Meaning you actually read it?"

"Shut-up." Phineas looked back at him and smiled, he glowed from within. Then he was quiet for a few moments, gazing up at the ceiling.

"Patroclus dies before Achilles, though," Phineas said in an airy voice, though he couldn't hide the solemnity underneath his words. He was a terrible liar, and Gene was glad for that.

"But Achilles eventually follows him to the afterlife, and they're never apart for long. Achilles is too loyal, too brave."

"And how are you so sure I'm Achilles?" His voice held a teasing tone.

"Because," Gene said, smiling widely, "you're beautiful and good and the bravest man I'll likely ever know- and even when you aren't, I won't mind." Gene paused, thoughtful for a moment, "You're more than just your leg, Phineas." Gene knew this was what truly bothered Phineas.

Phineas' nostrils flared, and his eyes became glossy. "I'm never going to be the hero you want me to be."

Gene cupped the side of Phineas' face, "You already are Phineas, you've always been." He leaned in to give Phineas a gentle kiss, earnest and sweet. They pulled away slightly, foreheads pressed together, hands on one another's neck, perfectly connected.

"I love you, Gene," Phineas whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I always will, _always_."

Gene gripped tighter onto his neck, pulling Phineas closer- his heart ached, "I love you Phineas, my Achilles."


End file.
